


First Breath After Coma

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Ghost!Damian, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part about it all was, the dream was a side effect of his coma. Nothing more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Breath After Coma

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt, since it sets it all up: "Shortly after Damian’s death Dick was careless in a fight and got himself into a coma. In ‘coma limbo’, Damian was his blood/adopted son and everyone in there was happy. However, Ghost!Damian would have none of coma!Grayson so he tried to get to him —> signs start to show up in dream world alerting Dick that’s sth’s off. From that point on, your fic, your choice :))" 
> 
> I never really said, but it’s implied that Ghost!Damian infiltrated Dick’s mind, and that is him speaking at the end/was him the whole time. Nothing to do with GTWK, before anyone asks. Title is a song from the band Explosions in the Sky, and while didn’t really influence this piece, should be considered for supplemental listening.

_Bombs. Gunshots. Screaming. First from victims, then from…Bruce…? Tim…? No, no. Barbara. She was there. Right next to him. Oh god, she didn’t…she wasn’t…Pain? Since when? That gunman…was he standing there the whole time? Why didn’t I…? How many bullets does he have? Heavy, head is very heavy. That’s Cass shouting now. She never screams. What’s going…what’s happened? This pain is awfully sharp. Why is everything going dark? Why is everything echoing? Why is-_

“Father!” Dick jerked up, blinking quickly. As his vision came into focus, he glanced to his side, where Damian had flopped against him. He shook the last pieces of sleep from his mind as he slumped back against his pillow, patting a hand against the child’s chest.

“What’d you call me?” he mumbled with a yawn.

“I called you _Dad_ , like I always call you.” Damian scoffed. “Was I supposed to call you something else?”

“No, I just thought…” Dick scrunched his nose, then shook his head again, pushing his fingers through Damian’s hair. “Never mind. You ready for school?”

Damian rolled his eyes, though if it were at the affection or the comment, Dick wasn’t awake enough to figure out. “It’s the middle of summer. More than that, it’s almost the middle of the _day_. You’ve slept all morning!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Dick rolled over, trapping his son in a hug. Damian only struggled slightly. “What have I missed?”

“Breakfast – again – Titus’s morning walk, Mister Pennyworth making treats for the entire cul-de-sac, and Jason and Stephanie looking for you.” Damian listed. “I only woke you up because Tim wants to take Colin and I to the basketball courts. Mister Wayne said we weren’t allowed to leave until I actually got the okay from you this time.”

“Good for Mister Wayne.” Dick laughed, pressing a kiss to Damian’s hair before letting him up. “We don’t want a repeat of _last_ time.”

“I know, I _know_.” Damian drawled. “You had the whole neighborhood out looking for us.”

“If you don’t slow down, you, Colin and Nell are going to be known as the neighborhood troublemakers.” Dick grinned, sitting up. “Take Titus with you. I’ll come pick you guys up at four.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Damian waved him off, disappearing through the door. Dick laughed as he swung out of bed. After making his stop in the bathroom, he slowly stumbled down the stairs, and was almost barreled over by Titus when the dog heard Tim and Colin at the door. By the time he reached the bottom, he saw Colin and Damian disappear into the garage.

Tim was still at the door, cooing and petting Titus’s ears. “Thanks for taking the boys out today.” Dick said. Tim glanced up with a smile.

“It was the only thing I could think of to stop them from breaking in to the old Wayne Manor with Jason.” Tim shrugged as he stood, following Dick into the kitchen.

“Jason’s not so bad. He did get them away from the train tracks that one time.” Dick tried. “But I am glad Mister Wayne had Damian stop back first.”

“Mister Wayne?” Tim questioned. “Dick, the police believe Mister Wayne to be dead, remember?”

“What?” Dick paused as he opened the refrigerator door.

“I said Mister Wayne is on vacation until tomorrow.” Tim urged. “It was Mister Kent who suggested Damian stop in to tell you.

“Right. That _was_ what he said.” Dick furrowed his brows. “Huh. That’s already the second time that’s happened today. I think I’m losing my hearing.”

“Nah, you’re too young to lose your hearing, Mister Grayson.” Colin said cheerfully as he and Damian returned to the room, a basketball and a bat in their hands.

“You okay, Dad?” Damian asked cautiously.

“Peachy.” Dick smiled, wrapping an arm around Damian’s neck and kissing his head once more. “You guys have fun. I’ll see you at four.”

The boys and Titus disappeared through the front door, and it wasn’t long before Jason and Stephanie came bursting through it themselves.

“Our weekly lunch date, remember?” Jason seemed appalled that Dick might’ve forgotten. “And before you hear otherwise, I was not trying to drag your stupid-ass kid into Wayne Manor. Even _I’m_ not that idiotic.”

“No worries, Tim saved your butt on that one.” Dick smiled, relinquishing control of the stove for Stephanie.

“He what?” Jason looked confused. “Why would he do that? He hates your brat.”

“No he doesn’t.” Dick denied. “Tim’s the only reason Damian and Colin haven’t been shoved into a juvenile detention center yet, if I’m honest.”

“Damian and Col…Dick, what are you _talking_ about?” Stephanie questioned, face contorting into worry as she shared a glance with Jason. “Colin was thrown into a psychiatric ward not long after Damian died.”

“After _what?_ ” Dick breathed incredulously. Surely, he was hearing wrong, that just seemed to be the type of day he was having.

“After Damian _died_.” Stephanie repeated slowly.

“You…you were there, remember?” Jason asked quietly. “At Wayne Tower. Talia sent a clone after Robin.”

“No, you guys… you’re playing a shitty joke.” Dick laughed nervously. “Damian just left with Colin and Tim not…forty-five minutes ago!”

“Dick…” Stephanie started softly, grabbing hold of Dick’s arm. “Damian’s been dead for weeks.”

“Alfred and Leslie warned us about this.” Jason said gravely. “He’s regressing.”

“No, I’m not! Because Damian was just…” Dick felt his heart pounding as he glanced around the room. Everything seemed as it always was. It was him, his son and their dog. He dashed to the next room, looking at the entertainment center, and all the photos that sat on top of it.

There were pictures of him and Damian, but it wasn’t the same. There were none of just the two of them, always other people. A lot with Bruce, but why would Bruce Wayne be in any of these photos? Dick blinked once and some of the frames disappeared. He blinked again, and more were gone. Not only that, but the ones left were altered. No Damian, no him. No happy family.

“Dick, how about you sit down…” Stephanie started.

“No, I…” Dick grabbed his head. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. He glanced up at his friends – no, not friends. Brothers. Jason was his brother. Stephanie might as well be family – and they looked so _pained_. He took a step back, turning towards the front door. “I need to find Damian.”

He threw the front door open, ignoring Jason and Stephanie’s cries as he leapt down the front steps. He was running before he realized it, distracted by the world crumbling around him. The sky was no longer a bright blue, but a blood red. The houses weren’t painted with picket fences, but old shells with dark and cracked windows.

Dick wasn’t to the end of the street yet when Damian appeared in the road in front of him. But it wasn’t the boy he remembered from less than an hour before. His face was gray and hollow, clothing ripped, covered in gashes.

“Damian…”

“I looked for the cracks in your subconscious. Tried to find ways to make you realize none of this made sense.” Damian’s voice was soft, tired. His eyes were apologetic, but blank. “It took me ages, but I think…I think I got it now.”

“What…” Dick breathed, closing the gap between them. “Where _are_ we?”

“You’re in a coma. Have been for about two weeks. You didn’t…” Damian closed his eyes, as if in pain. “There was no one there to cover your back. The gunman was in your blind spot.”

Dick could hear a wind swirling around them, tornadic if the collapsing buildings around them were any indication, but he couldn’t feel it. “Damian, are you-”

“Yes.” Damian reopened his eyes and looked up. The blue was muted, and looked a thousand years old. “I am dead.”

Dick could only gape at him.

“But you are not.” Damian’s voice suddenly steeled. “And I will not let you be so.”

Damian grabbed his shirt, pulling him down to his level. His free hand suddenly swung up in a fist, connecting with Dick’s cheek.

“So wake up.” Damian shouted, inches from his nose. He pulled his arm back, repeating the punch three more times. “Wake _up_ , Grayson!”

And Dick did. The room was white and full of machines, a multitude of wires were stabbed into his arms, and there was Tim – poor little Tim, sitting there asleep in the chair.

Dick woke up. And within seconds, he was screaming, pulling at his hair, jolting Tim conscious, because he had never wanted to again.


End file.
